


The Parenting Chronicles

by hvcreel



Series: The Parenting Chronicles [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-13
Packaged: 2018-01-24 12:54:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1605917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hvcreel/pseuds/hvcreel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>16 years down the line, Ian and Mickey are married, have 2 kids, and live in the suburbs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Big Brother vs. Little Brother

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to go for a series of snapshots into Ian and Mickey's life as the parent of 2 kids; Yevgeny (16) and Dante (8)

"Get out of my fucking room, Dante!"

A mock scream, followed by the patter of 8 year old feet fleeing down the hallway, and then the noise of what can only be described as a book being flung at the perpetrator by a pissed of 16 year old.

Exasperated sighs came from the two parents sitting on the couch, attempting to enjoy a relatively quiet evening cuddling and watching some televised entertainment. So much for that simple dream.

Ian Gallagher looked at his partner of 19 years (married for 10), Mickey Milkovich as if to say _whose turn is it?_   Mickey just shrugged, so the two just settled for thier typical method of deciding who had to go play parent--rock, paper, scissors.

Paper beat rock, so it was Papa Mickey who was forced to be peace keeper in the most recent installment of "Little Brother Dante vs. Big Brother Yevgeny"

"Good luck Papa Bear" Ian said, lifting his arm from around Mickey's shoulders so that he could go tend to their delinquent offspring.

"Just make sure there's a beer waiting for me when I get back"

Ian just laughed, giving his a husband a quick slap on the ass as he headed to their son's bedrooms. Mickey shot him a  _watch yourself buddy_ look, but was quick to follow if with a cheeky grin.

*knock knock*

"Dante, dude, what's going on?"

The strawberry blonde 8 year old was sitting on his bed, hands fiddling with an Iron Man action figure, eyes glued to the floor. The tiniest of mumbles escaped from his mouth. Mickey crouched down in front of his youngest son and lifted his head.

"Dante Ellison, I need you to look at me please." Little green eyes made fleeting contact with his father's blue ones, before looking away once more.

"Dante," Mickey sighed "Daddy and I have both talked to you many times about how important it is that you respect Yev's space."

Finally making legitimate eye contact with his father, his little voice spoke up "But Papa, I was just wanting to look at his deefeedee's."

Mickey knew his little Dante wasn't deliberately trying to be the biggest pain in the world for Yevgeny, but to a 16 year old, any kind of younger sibling was essentially annoyance personified.

Getting up from his crouched position, Mickey took a seat next to Dante on the bed, pulling him in close for a sideways hug and planting a kiss on top of his head.

"You know Yev loves you, right?"

The little boy nodded, nuzzling in a bit closer to his Papa.

"But Yev is also a teenager, and teenagers need their space. That's why Daddy and Papa always tell you to knock first and wait for his permission to come in."

Now it was the 8 year old's turn to let out a little sigh.

"He didn't have to throw a book at me and say a naughty word though."

"I know Bubba, It was wrong of him to do those things, and I will talk to him about it. But I think it's time for you, little big man, to get ready for bed. You still need to say sorry to him in the morning though."

Getting up, he lifted Dante off the bed, who wrapped his little arms around his fathers muscular neck. Yes, Dante was a little old for that, but Mickey knew if comforted his little boy when he was feeling vulnerable. He carried him over to his dresser, picked out his skull and cross bones PJ's, then took him to his little bathroom to get changed and and brush his teeth. After tucking him in, he flipped on his planet and stars projector night light, kissed him tenderly on the head, then exited his room, leaving the door cracked open ever so slightly.

Once down, Mickey thought to himself, but now it was time to deal with the teenager behind door #2.


	2. Little Brother vs. Big Brother part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to deal with Yevgeny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of Little Brother vs. Big Brother.

*knock knock*

"Hey Yev, you wanna tell me what that was all about?"

Yevgeny, laying on his bed, looked up from his tablet and removed his head phones.

"Little brat was in my room messing with my DVD's"

Mickey rubbed his eyes. As much as he loved that Yev was so much like him in that he was blunt, to the point, no BS, he was frustrated by how much it was like pulling teeth with his eldest when trying to parent.

"You know that swearing in front of Dante is on the list of things Dad and I don't tolerate"

The 16 year old rolled his eyes before muttering under his breath "You guys didn't seem to care all that much when I was little..."

"Yevgeny Mikhail Milkovich! Rein in your attitude, or it's more than just your tablet that you'll be grounded from"

"What?! That's not fair!"

"Swearing, dropping the F-bomb no less, AND throwing a book at Dante, wasn't fair. And for what? Just for being a curious little brother?"

Tempers in both father and son were starting to flare, not an uncommon occurrence now that Yevgeny was deep in the throws of teenager-dom.

Dante was off his bed, fists clenched and nostrils flared. Mickey recognized yet another trait of his mirrored in his first born. A much younger, inexperienced Mickey would have rode out the frustration and irritation all the way to the inevitable physical confrontation. But Mickey was NOT his father, a person he had promised Ian, and most importantly himself, he would never become. Laying his hands on his children in anger is something he would never do, ever.

He took a deep breath, rubber his forehead, and gave Yev a look that said  _lets both calm down and just talk_. His eldest's fists seemed to relax, nostrils no longer flaring. Mickey pulled out the chair for Yevgeny's desk, set it across from the bed, and sat down, motioning for his son to do the same.

"Yev, you gotta understand that Dante doesn't always do things just to annoy you"

Yevgeny snorted, but upon seeing the look of seriousness in his father's eyes, he merely stared at his hands, nodding an apology.

"I totally get that younger siblings can be a huge pain in the ass. Your aunt Mandy used to push my buttons all the time, still does. But I also used to annoy my big brothers just as much"

His son looked up, his deep blue eyes mirroring his own. Mickey could see the guilt and remorse for his actions toward Dante starting to show.

"Dante loves you to pieces, dude. Hell, he looks up to you, like every little brother should"

Mickey could have sworn he saw Yevgeny smirk in spite of himself, but continued on, not wanting to lose his parenting  flow.

"But because he does look up to you, you gotta be the one to set a good example for him"

Placing his hand on Yevgeny's knee he made eye contact with the teen, preparing to make his final point.

"The reason Dad and I get so upset with you when you swear and show violent anger like you just did," Mickey took a deep breath, then exhaled before carrying on "is because we, well your Pops more that Dad, grew up in a family where beating and verbal abuse were a reality of everyday life"

Thankfully Yevgeny had been too young to remember the few times he had been witness to Mickey's own father's cruelty, something Mickey had been sure to protect his son from once Svetlana left, and he and Ian decided to leave the Southside for good. But his son was old enough now to know some of the truths about the nightmare that was growing up Milkovich.

Yevgeny's voice cracked when he finally did manage to find his words again.

"Your dad used to beat you?"

"Almost everyday, kid. Sometimes his fists, sometimes kicks from steel toed boots, and on a couple of occasions, he pulled a gun on AND pistol whipped me."

Mickey hadn't realized he had stopped looking at his son. The memories must have made it difficult to make eye contact. When he did look up again, Yevgeny's eyes were wide, his mouth slightly agape.

"Holy shit, dad"

Mickey nodded, "Yup"

It happened so quickly, it almost caused Mickey to fall out of his chair. His son, his 16 year old, bull headed, barely even wanted to be seen in public with his parents, son had him clutched tightly in a hug. It was the type of hug he hadn't given his father since he was a small boy.

He patted Yevgeny on the back a few times and gave him a final squeeze before they both separated. Father and son would have been lying if either said their eyes hadn't welled up a teeny bit.

"Alright bro, I'm willing to wave the tablet ban if, in the morning, you apologize, and I mean really apologize, to Dante for swearing and throwing a book at him."

"Sure thing Pops."

Mickey stuck out his fist, "Knuckles."

Yevgeny rolled his eyes and let out a small chuckle, but returned his father's offer of a fist bump. It was a tradition of theirs since Yevgeny had been very young. It was the first thing Mickey had ever taught his son.

Mickey ruffled the 16 year old's jet black, then headed for the door, reminding him it was an hour til lights out, and closing it behind him.

Collapsing back on the couch, his husband wrapped an arm back around his shoulder, dragging him closer so he could place a quick kiss on Mickey's temple.

"So is our nomination for 'Parents of the Year' still safe, Papa?"

"Pretty sure"

Mickey leaned forward just enough to swipe the cold bottle of Heineken off the coffee table, took two large sips, then leaned back into his husband, grateful to finally be enjoying a peaceful evening with the love of his life, in the home of his dreams, with 2 beautiful and (mostly) amazing kids just down the hall.

Not bad for a 'no good thug' from the Southside.


End file.
